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humor
I want to have a chat about Close People. CP’s. You know the ones. The ones who stand soclosetoyou while you’re doing whatever it is that you’re doing, that you’re pretty sure they’re making an attempt to share pants?
There are two types of CP’s. First up are your Close Talkers – the ones who feel that conversations are best held eyeball-to-eyeball, literally. Let me break it to you gently. Your stories aren’t interesting and I don’t somehow miss that fact when you stand on top of me to share them.
A friend does this and I am certain I miss most of the chats that we have because I spend the majority of them backing up.. then backing up again. This same friend talks SOINCREDIBLEYINYOURFACE to another friend of mine, that it took all my will power to not pee my pants watching said CP nearly sit in said friend’s lap to talk about her blinds. It was so good. Liz… you’re a trooper.
Then you’ve got your Close Standers, your CS’s – these are random people you aren’t even acknowledging who feel compelled to stand heel to toe. I often encounter these folks in the break room all the time. I’ll be waiting for something in the microwave and, despite it being an empty break room with 4 other microwaves, they’ll stand inches from my backside, waiting and breathing for the one I’m using. Can I help you? Did you need something? Like, for example, your own personal space? If I was any less classy (yeah, it’s possible!) I would just rip one. Right then. Just let loose and teach them a lesson.
I also encounter them in the “Self Check Out” Lines at Wal-Mart and due to this, I’ve got a public request. Please stand in your waiting area until I’m nabbing my receipt. Over there. Not right here, but over THERE. Please don’t lay out all your items on the shelf area next to my items, when I’m blatantly going to be here awhile, and then molest me with your breath while you wait. I don’t really enjoy becoming a human jungle gym for your children and some folks are SO EAGER to check themselves out that they nearly mow you down in the process. Like could I get my things first? Did you want to scan and bag my items for me? BY ALL MEANS SIR.
Side story: One of my first encounters with a CS/CT combo was on a blind date. I don’t know if I’d just never noticed people did this before, or if I’d assumed anytime I saw this that the remainder of their party was in the restroom — but I had never experienced someone wanting to share the same side of the booth as me. When there was perfectly ample booth space ACROSS from me. I slid in, he slid in.. and I almost died. WHY are you RIGHT there? Isn’t it easier to sit FACING me so we can chat? And so that I don’t feel like maybe you’re doing this because you already realize you’re excruciatingly boring and you’re blocking my one route of escape for when I realize this, too?
Anyways, that’s my half rant for the day. Just a little nugget to remind ya’ll that we need three feet of personal space in all directions. And that I just don’t want to share my pants.*
So, tell me — what is YOUR favorite Close People moment?
*Sharing of pants permissible for Sean Ruscio, Collin Farrell or Ryan Reynolds. Chris Pine and Channing Tatum pending.
So today I noticed that someone 5-finger-discounted my lunch that I left in the work freezer from last week and it reminds me of the last time someone at work stole something of mine.
Two months ago, during a particularly adamant PMS streak, someone at work was completely ghetto and STOLE my Glad Tupperware container from the break room. While it was soaking. Full of egg bits. AND I WAS LIVID.
The mature person in me should’ve thought, “Wow, FO REALZ?” and pitied the poor person whose life was so tough and so miserable that they needed to thief an EGGY DISPOSABLE TUPPERWARE container. But the PMS person in me was like GIMME MY TUPPERWARE, I’M NOT GONNA SHELL OUT $3 AGAIN BECAUSE YOU’RE CHEAP.
Since this was like the 10th item yoinked from the break room in recent weeks (though probably the least vaulable), I emailed our HR lady. Yes. You read that correctly. I emailed HR about my missing disposable Tupperware. MOSTLY I was hoping they would put up a note like, “Hey kids, stop jacking shit. Love, the Management,” but in a nicer tone. I knew it was totally childish, but I was more annoyed when the HR lady rudely emailed me back to say it was probably thrown away because there’s a sign that says no soaking dishes.
Which was a lie. There was no sign, has never been a sign; and because I was in one of those moods where I wanted to SHOW YOU WHAT’S UP I actually checked for the sign, then asked the cleaning crew if ever a sign or rule existed and then took it upon myself to email the HR lady AGAIN and let her know she was wrong (much to the amusement of some coworkers). I don’t want to say I dabble in brilliancy, but I figure after this paragraph I won’t have to and you’ll have already figured that out on your own.
HR lady never replied. Not surprising. MORE surprising, I still have a job. 
Anyways, I joked I should totally go balls out and put up a flyer with me holding a similar container with big giant letters, “MISSING: ONE TUPPERWARE. Reward offered for safe return,” but like I said – I wanted to keep said job so I could afford to buy more plastic goodness. Except I should have because the next week, a “MISSING: ONE STOLEN COFFEE CUP” sign appeared and they beat me to it.
Last week, I went and sat down in a big conference room for a video meeting. And sitting smack dab in front of me was HR Lady. And it took all my strength to NOT amuse myself by tapping her on the shoulder and going, “Hey, PSST. Just wanted to check the status of my missing Tupperware case?”
